


Glass On the Road Like Diamonds

by CosmicMind



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Car Accidents, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 08:49:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11010036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicMind/pseuds/CosmicMind
Summary: An accident that unfolds in front of Jim affects him worse than he thinks, bringing up some unpleasant memories from his childhood.





	Glass On the Road Like Diamonds

**Author's Note:**

> Ok this is suuuuuper self-indulgent but I'm a sucker for angst and comfort fics. I'm sorry Jim I love you but you gotta suffer
> 
> Also mentally ill Jim Gordon is something I live for

It started off as a surprisingly normal day in Gotham with nothing too spontaneous happening for once (maybe the villains took a day off). Jim and Harvey were on their noon lunch break, and had decided to go to one of Harvey’s favorite greasy gyro food trucks. The air of conversation was light between them as they walked down the sidewalk, the light snow crunching beneath their footsteps. Just an uneventful February day.

 

“I’m telling you, Jim,” Harvey said through his mouthful, “Penguin’s gonna unravel his scheme sooner or later. He just can’t become a good person overnight, not with Nygma at his side.”

 

“I doubt it,” Jim retorted, “There’s no doubt he lost his grip on the underworld, but it would be suicide for him to give it up. He’s not some big super villain like that.”

 

“You think he’s clean now?”

 

“No, but he seems content. Especially with his new boyfriend, Ed. Those two are practically glued at the hip.”

 

“Oh yeah, they’re definitely in love. You saw that way they held each other on the news at  _ The Sirens _ a while ago. That’s total bedroom eyes.”

 

“I wouldn’t call it bedroom eyes. But Oswald’s been head over heels for Nygma for a while, ever since I saw them together at Nygma’s place.”

 

“Right, right. You said they were what, signing or something?”

 

“Doing a duet.”

 

“Like a married couple?”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

“Well when you get invited to their wedding, bring me along as your partner. I need to get me some of that free booze.”

 

“I don’t know if I’ll get invited. Nygma hates me, Oswald probably doesn’t hate me; it’d probably be too much of an issue.”

 

“Yeah, but have you seen the fortune Cobblepot’s got. That rich people buffet and bar is gonna be like ambrosia.”

 

“Sure. We’ll both be wedding crashers.”

 

Both men let out laughter through the chewing of their food in the form of white puffs going into the crisp air. Jim wished there were more times like this where he and Harvey could enjoy some hot food and each other’s company. Professional in public, loving in private was their motto, as both their jobs and public images came first. Jim wondered if this is how Oswald and Ed felt: safe and secure as long as they had each other. He couldn’t help but smile at the contentedness in his chest as he and Harvey went up to an intersection crosswalk. Harvey noticed Jim’s new expression and chuckled, ruffling his blond hair playfully.

 

“What’s on your mind, boy scout?” he teased, “Thinking about our date tonight?” Out of the corner of his eye he didn’t noticed the truck speeding down the road as he turned to look at Harvey.

 

“Nah, it’s nothing. I just-”

 

Jim was cut off by the piercing sound of metal on metal colliding at the intersection- a sound Jim knew too well- and dropped his food as he jumped. Harvey also nearly lept out of his shoes and swore loudly over the noise. The two promptly directed their attention to the intersection after recovering from the initial shock of the crash.

 

“Brutal” was the only word that could accurately describe the scene in front of them. A giant dent on the driver’s side of the hit car, which no normal human could have possibly survived. Broken glass and scraps of metals were strewn across the street, glittering like diamonds beneath the soft light of the cloudy sky. The truck that was speeding was pretty bad too, but not nearly as fatal of a wreck as the car that was hit, although it was totalled. Someone from around the intersection had screamed, summing up Jim’s feelings. Yet despite how his breathing was beginning to pick up and his whole body trembling, he couldn’t produce any adequate sounds to voice his thoughts.

 

“Holy shit,” Harvey breathed, then turned back to Jim, “Go check the car, I’ll call the paramedics.” Jim nodded and sprinted at the car, not caring whether or not he would slip on the icy road. The airbags were out, yet Jim could still see a man in the driver’s seat with his head slumped and bright red blood pouring down the side of his head. Adrenaline had put Jim in auto pilot so much that he didn’t even look at the back seat as he looked through the shattered driver’s window.

 

“Sir?” Jim asked- well, more like yelled, “Are you okay? Talk to me!”

 

The man didn’t respond, but looked at Jim with heavy eyes. He had curly brown hair and thick stubble that was mixing with crimson, and his breathing was ragged. Had Jim not been a stoic man of the law, he couldn’t bare to look at him, as it was a mirror image of his father in this situation. But he held the man’s face and came in close to him.

 

“What’s your name?” Jim breathed.

 

“N-Nathan… Briggs,” the bleeding man forced a response.

 

“Nathan, stay with me. The paramedics are on their way. Are you okay?”

 

“Rachel… i-is she alive?” Nathan’s eyes trailed behind his to the back seat to where Jim now noticed a young girl back there. She was crying and quivering like a bowl of jelly, but thankfully wasn’t sitting on the side that was hit. Jim couldn’t focus on her now, not with a dying man in his arms.

 

“She… she’s alive,” Jim responded.

 

Nathan smiled to himself, as weak as it was. “Good…,” Nathan trailed off as he rested his head down on the air bag and took his final labored breath as the life drained out of him. Jim frantically felt for a pulse, but when no pulse was to be found, he turned his attention to Rachel and rushed to the back seat. He swung it open and knelt down to Rachel’s height, despite shaking just as much as she was.

 

“It’s okay, I’m a police officer. Are you hurt, Rachel?” Jim questioned, putting a hand on her arm cautiously, in case there were any broken bones.

 

Rachel shook her head.

 

“Are you able to get out?”

 

Rachel nodded and unbuckled herself. Before Jim could properly assess her wounds, she threw herself into Jim’s arms and cried into his shoulder. Jim was as frozen as the snow-covered road, except for a hand that rubbed her back comfortingly, similar to how Alfred hugged a younger Bruce Wayne the night of the Waynes’ murder. It would have been unprofessional to do in public, Jim almost felt like crying himself, had he not been shaken into a frozen state of fear.

 

Nathan Briggs had died right then and there, at 2:32 in the afternoon on an initially peaceful day in Gotham with his daughter in the back seat, and the great Jim Gordon couldn’t do anything.

 

\----

 

Jim hadn’t said much after that. Not when the paramedics and forensics came and tended to Rachel and Tyler, the stupid teen that was speeding down the road when he was high as a kite. Not when he was relieved to know that neither minors had suffered fatal nor serious injuries, besides the given mental trauma. And certainly not every time Jim had to look at the wreckage as he sat on the curb to get himself together.

 

He felt worn out, drained. He could have saved him! Nathan didn’t deserve to die like that, no father should have to, and no child deserves to see their parent die in front of them in a single moment of extreme violence and crushing metal. But Jim was unable to do anything helpful at this scene. He was worthless.

 

Tyler was on a paramedic bench nearby as another police officer was talking to him, while a paramedic was patching up his several cuts. Rage bubbled up within Jim when he looked at them, despite Jim not entirely understanding why. Tyler seemed just as shaken up as Rachel, but was crying and wiping his nose on his baggy sleeve, as opposed to Rachel who had gone silent by the time the paramedics came.

 

At some point Harvey came over to Jim to kneel next to him, draping an arm around his shoulder. Jim had talked to Harvey about his father’s accident before, but never too much extent, as he didn’t like to talk about, and it never bothered him this much. And it wasn’t like Jim had never seen car accidents in Gotham before, but not like this, not this close up. It just made Jim feel horrible.

 

“You okay?” Harvey asked quietly, rubbing Jim’s shoulder soothingly.

 

Jim nodded reluctantly. “Yeah,” he lied, “Just tired, is all.”

 

Perhaps it was the way Nathan smiled before his final breath, or the way Rachel flew into his arms, that struck such a heavy nerve with Jim, yet his mind was fuzzy like television static. His body was here, yet his mind still felt like it was in his father’s car after that drunk driver hit it.

 

\----

 

Despite the rough day, the date still went on.

 

They hung out at Harvey’s place with some hot takeout, cold beer, and sitting with one another on the couch. Normally they would evolve into intimacy rather quickly, or at least some close cuddling, but Jim just wasn’t up to it today. He couldn’t shake the strange feeling he had been carrying all day, but insisted that he still spent time with Harvey without revealing his true feelings. He didn’t want to let Harvey down like that, not after the stress of the day.

 

Jim took a bite into his greasy Indian takeout as Harvey flipped through the channels wildly, unable to be satisfied with what to watch. Jim didn’t really care what they watched, as long as he was spending time with Harvey. But that didn’t mean he still couldn’t get annoyed with Harvey’s inability to choose.

 

“Just pick something already,” Jim groaned.

 

“Not much on,” Harvey muttered to himself, “I’m telling you, this new paycheck as captain better help me afford some better cable. Half of these channels are duds.”

 

“Sports?”

 

“There’s no good teams on tonight. Just a bunch of loser vs loser teams. If you wanna watch, I’m down. Wait, hold on, I wanna watch the news for a few minutes.”

 

“But we experience half of this stuff first hand.”

 

“It’ll give me time to decide on a channel. Now hush, sugar lips.”

 

Harvey finally set down the remote on his lap as he leaned in intently to watch the news. Jim let out a heavy sigh and continued eating. It’s not like he hated the news, but it never really captivated him as much as he used to. There were wilder things that occurred on a daily basis to him that the local news was just fluff. At least Harvey wasn’t messing with the channels anymore.

 

As Jim was going to take another drink of his beer, he heard a transition to a new report about a car crash earlier that day. Jim put down his drink and stared at the screen, feeling frozen again.

 

_ “And earlier today at two-thirty a shocking accident occurred at the intersection of 21st and Lincolnshire street,”  _ the report spoke,  _ “Tyler Rodriguez, a sixteen year-old from the intercity, struck the car of Nathan and Rachel Briggs, killing Nathan almost instantly. Tyler admitted to smoking marijuana with a friend that morning, and is still awaiting his verdict. Luckily two police officer happened to be nearby why the gruesome scene took place, and paramedics were able to provide immediate medical attention to the survivors. Nathan was a beloved pediatrician at Gotham General, who his peers referred to as ‘a single father who put as much love into his work as he did his daughter,’ and will be greatly missed by both family and friends.” _

 

“Geez, they really sugar-coat it down there,” Harvey said, shaking his head sadly, “Guess it helps the good people of Gotham sleep at night. So, how’s basketball sound, Jimmy?”

 

Jim didn’t reply. His arms were now wrapped around his waist, clenching and unclenching his shirt, and he felt violently ill, like he could vomit at any moment. His mind was blank again, and the world around him felt surreal. Like a bad dream.

 

“Jim? You feeling okay?” Harvey asked softly. He scooted closer to Jim, which just made Jim feel worse. Jim hadn’t noticed until now that he was starting to hyperventilate as his eyes stung.

 

“B-Bathroom,” Jim slurred as he got up- rather clumsily- to Harvey’s bathroom. He just barely made it to the toilet before all of his food from today came out in the form of disgusting vomit as his legs were dragging behind him. Harvey came over in a rush and gave Jim some space as he puked, but still knelt down to his level.

 

“It’s okay, buddy,” Harvey said soothingly, patting Jim on the back, “Let it all out. Should’ve known that Indian place looked sketchy as hell. I’ll take you to a fancy place to make up for it another day.”

 

Even after Jim had emptied all of the contents of his stomach, he still felt ill. He glanced sheepishly at Harvey, whose face turned into deep concern upon seeing Jim now crying- and not the normal type of crying that was a given when a lot of people vomited, but this was heavy stream of sobbing. The hyperventilating was now more apparent than ever through the his shuddering breath and running nose. He was shaking like mad as he leaned against the bathtub, curling up his legs and burying his face in his knees.

 

“Jim, holy shit!” Harvey exclaimed, panicking at what to do. Depressive episodes, Harvey could deal with, since he was able to just lay with Jim in the comfort of his bed until they passed. Jim had even cried to Harvey several times after especially long days at work where they were both so exhausted they barely could stand.

 

But this was different. Panic attacks were alien to Harvey, especially when Jim was the one having them. There was no medication to offer, to simple solution- Harvey had no idea what Jim needed. He considered calling Lee, but she probably wouldn’t be too thrilled to hear anything about Jim.

 

Harvey took a deep breath. After years of interrogating hurt victims of crimes, Harvey would have try his best.

 

“Jim,” Harvey breathed, holding his hands out, “Can I, uh, touch you?”

 

Jim nodded as he sobbed, as slow as it was. Good enough consent for now. Harvey went over next to Jim and put an soft hand on his back again, rubbing in small circles between the shoulder blades the way Jim liked. Still no improvement.

 

Jim felt like he couldn’t breathe, his throat tight and his voice strained besides his sobs. He hated this. He hated himself. It was embarrassing for Harvey to see a grown man in such a pitiful state, especially over something so minor. How could Harvey ever love someone like him?

 

“What can I do for you?” Harvey said. This broke Jim.

 

It took a whle for Jim to muster up any kind of response, yet still refused to show his face. “‘M sorry… I’m s-s-such a fuckup,” Jim shuddered, his voice uneven and reckless, “Y-You deserve better. I’m sorry.”

 

“No, no, you’re not a fuckup.I don’t wanna hear you say that. I love you just as you are.”

 

“S-Stop lying!” Jim roared, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and shaking his head, “I-I-I know what everyone thinks of me! You just deal with b-because you pity me. I’m terrible!”

 

“Jim, I don’t pity you, and you’re not terrible. I’m not dealing with you at all. I want to be near you.” Harvey sat closer to Jim and put his face closer to Jim’s ear so he could talk quieter. Was this really working? Probably not, but Harvey wanted to try. Jim, on the other hand, still felt guilty. He could piece together why Harvey was still with him.

 

“I-It’s just… I couldn’t do  _ anything _ ! He died under my watch, I l-l-let him. I’m no b-b-better than Tyler.”

 

“Jim, look at me.”

 

Jim looked up, his eyes swollen and red and drool coming out of his mouth. Harvey put both of his hands on Jim’s shoulders and looked his in the eyes with such compassion that made Jim feel both worse and slightly relieved.

 

“It wasn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. You did everything you could. You can’t blame yourself for something you had no control over. I don’t blame you, no one blames you.”

 

Jim hid his face again in his own hand while the other one still clutched his midsection. “I never wanted to hurt anyone…” he croaked.

 

“You didn’t hurt anyone today-” Harvey began.

 

“No, not just today. E-Everyday. Lee was right; I’ve hurt s-so many people because of how s-selfish I am. I hurt Oswald, I hurt Lee, Valerie, Barbara, everyone. I drag you into a-all my bullshit, and I j-just hold you back. E-E-Everyone would be better off without me. I should have gotten killed with my f-father.”

 

Harvey couldn’t stand to hear any more of this. Jim was one of the most selfless people he knew, and he couldn’t bare to hear such awful things. While it probably wasn’t the best thing to do unannounced, Harvey pulled Jim into a deep embrace, stroking his hair and Jim cried into his shoulder.

 

“Jim, please, please don’t talk like that. You had no control over a lot of things. It’s okay.”

 

“No, it’s not!”

 

“But it’s okay to let it out. It’s okay to be honest with how you feel. You’re having a panic attack, which you can’t control. If you died that day with your dad, I would have never gotten to know and love you. You’ve been the highlight of my life for years. I’m here for you.”

 

Jim stopped talking and his breathing was starting to steady, yet he still sobbed and sobbed for what seemed like a small eternity. Harvey was okay with sitting on his filthy bathroom floor, as long as he could calm Jim down. When Jim’s loud sobs turned into steady crying, Harvey decided to try a different tactic.

 

“Hey, Jim,” he said quietly, “Have I ever told you the story of how me and my cousins once got the police to come to our house over Dungeons and Dragons?”

 

Jim shook his head silently.

 

So Harvey told his comical story as he rubbed Jim’s back and hair tenderly, mimicking what his mother did to him when he was a kid. Soon enough Jim’s breathing had steadied and he his grip on Harvey’s jacket had loosened. Harvey even heard Jim chuckle a few times, which was a great relief.

 

“And so when the cops left, my aunt gave us such a beating that none of us walked right the next day, and it was worse when my parents came back from their vacation. My mom’s probably still scolding me from the grave.”

 

Jim let out a weak, but genuine, laugh and lifted his face up. Harvey caressed his strong jawline tenderly, giving him a soft kiss on the forehead. This scene was so sappy Harvey wondered if they stole it from a rom com.

 

“Are you okay now?’ Harvey asked.

 

“Y-Yes,” Jim replied, “Thank you.”

 

“I should have seen it sooner. I’m sorry I’m so oblivious. But don’t be afraid to talk to me about this stuff ever. I know what happened with your dad was decades ago, but it’s okay to still be affected by it. And you’re never a burden on me. I want you to be happy. You’re so, so important to me.”

 

Jim smiled and wiped away the tears forming at Harvey’s eyes with his thumb. “Alright, you big softie.”

 

“You wanna move to the bed? It’s probably comfier there.”

 

“No, here’s fine.” Jim nuzzled himself into Harvey’s chest and let out a sigh of content. Harvey smiled as well and rocked with him as they were still sitting against the bathtub.

 

And so they stayed.

**Author's Note:**

> Here I got a [regular blog](thegarbagechan.tumblr.com), and an [art blog](drawingcrows.tumblr.com) too


End file.
